


dodgy behavior!

by miyuseway



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dedicated to the people who inspired this. you know who you are. you know what you've done., M/M, Miscommunication, Prerelease, don't look at me. i am ashamed., i am so sorry that i made this exist, oh god i'm probably gonna delete this in t minus one hour OH GOd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyuseway/pseuds/miyuseway
Summary: Listen, if you're really going to go sneaking around, can you be a little more careful next time? Is that too much to ask?





	dodgy behavior!

It’s six o’clock sharp, and it’s way too early to be going to get food. But the students at the Officer’s Academy are hungry, cruel, ravenous creatures, and Annette is not going to be late for breakfast ever again, especially after that one time she overslept and woke up to find zero croissants left. Zero! It was an awful day… thinking of it again leaves her in shivers.

As she walks through the halls, her mind focused on pastries and fruit, she looks to see Sylvain walking out of his dorm room, slowly closing the door behind him. He’s carrying a small bag, and he keeps glancing around the area. Suspicious. She waves. “Hey, Sylvain!”

“Huh?” He looks up, startled. “Oh, Annette. What’s up?”

“I’m doing okay. Just hungry.” Something white is poking out of the bag. Annette steps forward. Her hands start to inch their way closer and closer. “What’s that?”

“Nothing important, it’s just--”

She makes a lunge for it, pickpocketing the item with relative ease (thanks for the pointers, Ashe!). As Sylvain makes a strangled sort of noise that is very similar to the squawk of a dying bird, Annette inspects what she took. She blinks, confused. “These are… gloves?”

“Yes, they are. Now hand them back, please,” Sylvain says, holding his hand out expectantly. In response, Annette sticks her tongue out. “Wow, okay. I see how it is. Gods, Felix was right. I really have influenced you too much. I have to admit, I sorta feel like you’re betraying me right now.”

“Yeah, sure I am. Why do you even have these? I’ve never seen you wear gloves before.” She waves them around, putting them behind her back when Sylvain tries to reach out for them. She doesn’t know much about fabrics, or anything else resembling the sort, but these seem to be of high-quality; they’re pretty soft. Maybe Mercedes would know what material this is. “And these look really expensive, too.”

Sylvain mutters something under his breath. Annette frowns. “Did you say something?”

“No, no, it was nothing. Anyway, I… these aren’t mine, so I’d like them back. Wouldn’t want them to get ruined, you know.”

“These aren’t even yours?” She scrunches up her nose. “Oh, ew. You’re using the gloves to hit on a poor girl, aren’t you.”

“Okay, thank you for that lovely show of faith,” he says, deadpan. He slaps a hand across his forehead, clearly exasperated. Though, it’s strange--he does look unexpectedly jittery, too. “Listen, I just noticed that someone left these behind, so I’m on my way to give them back right now. Alright?”

“Oh… well, I… I suppose that makes sense.” Annette reluctantly hands the pair of gloves back, and he carefully folds them before placing them back in his bag. She scratches the back of her head and lets out a sheepish laugh. “Um, sorry for taking your stuff. I got a little too curious, and--I guess I was overreacting, but, well, I really thought I was gonna unravel some big secret of yours or something!”

“It’s all good. I guess we’re all a little frazzled this morning.” Sylvain grins. “And, yeah. That sure would be funny if it were true, huh?”

They part ways. Something about the entire conversation still seems… off. But Annette shouldn’t pry anymore than she already has, right? It doesn’t seem like this matters all that much. Especially when she has pancakes to eat!

* * *

The door slams open. Caspar looks up, registering the sound a bit later than usual. Gods, he is _so_ tired right now. He really shouldn't have stayed up last night. “Good morning, Professor! It’s great to see you!”

“It’s great to see you too, Ferdinand,” Byleth says, voice already betraying a hint of weariness. “Take a seat. We’ll be starting in a few minutes. Ugh, just have to change this little bit of the lesson plan…”

Their professor begins to mutter to herself, clearly detaching from the conversation. Caspar watches Ferdinand sit in the seat closest to the door. It just so happens to be right next to where he’s sitting with Linhardt. Ferdinand’s facial expression changes as he notices them, and he starts to take on this grim, somber look. Ouch.

“Hey,” Caspar says, extending a tiny olive branch. “What’s up?”

He scoffs. Caspar resists the urge to groan. “Wouldn’t you rather be talking to Linhardt instead?”

“Yeah, but he’s sleepin' already, and I’m bored, so.” He squints. It might be his grogginess just messing with his mind, but… “You seem different today.”

Ferdinand raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Really.”

“Well, I dunno. I can’t really place it. It’s just, like…” Caspar struggles with his words, his observations. “I feel like something’s up, y’know?”

“Yes, well, this feeling of yours is very strange, and very incorrect. Now, if you’ll excuse me--”

“Your cravat,” Linhardt says, pointing with his finger. He yawns. Wait a second, when did he even wake up? “It’s put on wrong.”

On closer inspection, Caspar can definitely see what Linhardt's talking about. It’s hastily put on, like Ferdinand just shoved it there and went on his merry way. And although Caspar can’t claim to be the closest with Ferdinand, he knows that the other has always strived to be perfect. That trait has to extend to his appearance, as well.

He stutters. _Stutters_! “Er, that’s--”

“Your hair, too. It’s messy. Sticking out a bit on the right side.”

His cravat _and_ his hair? This is weird. Crazy. Totally out of character!

“Well,” Ferdinand says, combing down the strand that Linhardt was talking about with his fingers. It might be the light playing tricks on him, but Caspar swears that his face is turning pink. “We can’t be on top of things everyday, I suppose!”

“But we’re talking about _you_!” Caspar puts a hand on his chin. There has to be a good reason for this… Suddenly, a thought pops up. Caspar almost dismisses it--Ferdinand would never do something like that. Still, that’s the only logical explanation. “Wait, I think I know what happened.”

Ferdinand seems panicked. It’s almost like he’s being backed into a corner, and he knows it. “You _do_?”

Linhardt gives him a wary look. “You do…?”

“Yeah, it’s so obvious. You--” Caspar stops to grin. Wow, he is a genius. “You woke up late today!”

Ferdinand blinks. Then, suddenly his eyes light up. “Yes! Unfortunately, I overslept. You are very intelligent, Caspar. Please, keep this whole ordeal a secret; it’s quite embarrassing, and I’d prefer if the information was kept under wraps.”

“I mean, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, ‘cause I do it all the time, but if it really means that much to you, Lin and I can keep quiet about it.” He turns to Linhardt. “You’re cool with that, right?”

“Yes, but…” Linhardt frowns, eyes furrowed. “I… hm, I feel like--”

At the front of the room, Byleth clears her throat. “Alright, everyone! Let’s start class! Now, if you’re interested in taking the Mage Certification Exam next month, you might want to pay extra attention to this lesson…”

Ferdinand smiles as he turns his attention to the board. 

* * *

For all the prestigiousness that the Officer’s Academy has been boasting about, they still have to have hall monitors checking the rooms and areas to make sure the students aren’t messing around. It’s hilarious to think about, really--there are future governors, heroes, leaders of _entire countries_ , right here in this building. All this power, all this fame, and they still need to have a curfew. 

When it’s her turn to watch the halls, Byleth frequently ends up finding everyone’s lost things. And it’s always her that finds the random bracelet on the ground, the stray book that fell out of someone’s bag. None of the other staff members have this happening to them! Are lost things just attracted to her or something?  
But her students are always so grateful when she hands them back what they lost, so she doesn’t mind it all that much, really. Though it does concern her when she finds objects in places where they shouldn’t be.

For example.

Today, on this bright and sunny afternoon, Byleth can already hear the telltale bickering of a certain quartet from down the hall. She can’t resist the urge to smile. She knows she has no right to the four, considering how she’s allied herself with the Black Eagles, but their antics, even from afar, are incredibly amusing. Perhaps, in an alternate universe, she would have loved teaching them.

“… I’m just pointing out that it’s stupid to say that you want to eat pastries your whole life. You’d hate it within the first three days. You’re gonna crave for a vegetable at some point, Ingrid.”

“First of all, I could never get tired of eating dessert. Second of all, you’re the one that answered the question with ‘meat’, which has to be the farthest thing from a vegetable--”

“At least I’m always getting some goddamn _protein_ \--”

"Hey, I don’t think we should really be fighting over this--”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Sylvain says, stopping in his tracks. The other three stop as they realize he’s a couple steps behind, and turn to him expectantly. He pats his pockets once. Then he does it one more time, for good measure. Finally, he sighs. “Guys, I think I lost my handkerchief.”

Byleth can physically feel her heart stop. His _what_? Handkerchief? Hold on a second. She actually found one this morning, but... when she thinks of _where_ she found it...

Unknowing of Byleth’s growing plight, Felix snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, no. You lost your stupid fancy tissue _again_ . That’s _terrible_.”

Well, a lot of people own handkerchiefs, right? Especially nobles. They’re all prim and proper. She’s overreacting. It’s the sleep deprivation, definitely. Maybe she should start drinking the herbal tea that Catherine gave her as a gift.

“It’s not stupid! You know what, I would appreciate it if I had some support.” Sylvain looks at Ingrid. “Hey, back me up.”

“What? No.”

“Come on, seriously?”

“Well, I would be okay with it if it was a regular looking handkerchief, but instead you just had to get the one that looks--”

“Okay, moving on! Dimitri, what do you think about it?”

Dimitri smiles. “I think it’s a very interesting handkerchief to look at. It is a very flattering shade of orange.”

Orange… Gods, it’s orange, just like the one that she found right outside _Ferdinand’s_ \--

Felix sends a smug look in Sylvain’s direction, and stage whispers, “He’s basically saying that it’s tacky, you know.”

“ _Yes_ , I realize that!” Sylvain crosses his arms. “All of you are awful. I’m running away from the Blue Lions. Clearly, I’m not appreciated enough here!”

Well. There’s only one way to find out.

As a lull enters their conversation, Byleth clears her throat as she walks towards them. Immediately, the four students look at her. “Hey, Sylvain? I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but this handkerchief of yours… is this it?”

Her hands shake a bit as she pulls the handkerchief out of her pocket. She wasn’t really inspecting it when she first took the wretched thing, but it does look pretty cursed. How could Sylvain even misplace something like this? It’s so orange. So neon. 

Gods. To hell with the random crest she has, to hell with the whole _dragon girl_ living in her room asking her to save the world, and to hell with that one time Rhea was just like, “Oh, yeah! Your students are going to be suppressing a rebellion, now. Here’s the grading sheet.” This has to be the most tense moment of her life. 

“Oh--” _Don’t say it, don’t say it_ \-- “Yeah, that’s mine! Thanks, Teach.”

Byleth tries to at least make a vague attempt at smiling. She thinks she can feel a migraine coming on. “N--No problem!”

“I am kind of curious, though,” Sylvain says. “Where’d you find it?”

She needs a raise.

**Author's Note:**

> broke: ferdinand hated sylvain in my last fic because sylvain was a turncoat
> 
> woke: ferdinand hated sylvain in my last fic because they had a thing in high school and it never panned out


End file.
